


The Cup

by burusume



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Yugotalia
Genre: Angst, Gen, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burusume/pseuds/burusume
Summary: A symbolism-filled work presenting each nation's from the former Yugoslavia attitude towards a cup, which represents the union itself. Told from Bosnia's point of view.





	The Cup

Back in the day when we all used to live under the same roof we had a cup. No, not the trophy kind!  _Our_  cup was a small and fragile cup decorated with the most tender threads of flowers, all coloured using the softest colours.

I believe that one day one of us used it to drink their morning coffee but they abandoned it halfways, probably to get to an urgent task. There was always something to do in  _our_  house.  
So, they put it down on the massive, majestic wooden cabinet we had in the hallway.  _Dražen’s_  cabinet. He was always so eager to boast about his impressive cabinet that he  _“made himself in only 10 days from just one piece of wood”_ , even if we all knew such a thing was impossible to accomplish. But then again, there was no bursting one’s bubble in  _our_  house.

As a collective, we didn’t mind the cup’s presence. Yet, as individuals, we all had something to do with it.

Sometimes, Vuk would take quick sips from it even if he had another cup of coffee in his hand. Šćepan would only give him and the cup occasional side-glances.  
Dražen was the one who eyed it suspiciously, curiously. I think that he couldn’t get his head wrapped around the fact that this,  _ **this**_  cup of coffee sits here untouched instead of being washed and refilled. Later, when he noticed that someone was taking small sips from it, he grumbled about it at dinner.   
He also dragged the cup around the cabinet in such a manner that if one was to look at him they’d say he wanted to fake dropping the cup. Once, Vuk catched him doing this and laughed.  
“If that cup is bothering you because it’s on your cabinet you could’ve told us you want it removed instead of playing around with it until you break it.”  
“I-It’s not bothering me at all! I’m just bored or-I want to keep it out of the sun so that the coffee won’t go bad, you know?” Yet we all knew the only ones actually trying to find a position so that the coffee would stay shadowed were Janez and Milica.  
One could say Vuk was only amused by Dražen’s behaviour in that instant, but I knew: he was all  _ **but**_  amused.

Tatjana was the one mindlessly adding sugar to it in order to  _“preserve it”._  I don’t recall Idriza ever interacting with it, even if she was aware of its existence. Sometimes I could catch a glimpse of Jalal staring at it, looking pretty unsettled with his eyes squinted. Was he annoyed by it too? I just couldn’t put my finger on  _that_  expression.

However, one day, our cup broke.   
It simply fell on the cracked wooden floor and shattered. How did this came to be, I didn’t know by the time it happened. I only heard the sound from the kitchen where I, ironically, was drinking coffee too.

By that time, the cup became some sort of mascot among us Yugoslavs, so obviously we didn’t just clean the carpet and throw the shards in the bin: we actually tried to fix it back up. But the more we tried to fit the pieces together, the edges would crack to the point where we did more harm than good to it. So after a while we gave it all up and put the broken pieces in a small box. I can’t recall who kept it.

I think I’m the only one who knows who broke it. Don’t give me that look, someone did break it, and i’ll even tell you who.

It was Janez.  _He_  broke it.

Now, I think it’s important to mention that he rather broke it unintentionally; I couldn’t ever blame him for breaking a stupid cup.

I can almost smell the fresh, floral-scented air from that day, even after so many years. It was going to be a warm, lazy day for the most of us, except for our Slovenian. God only knew what kind of business did he have to take care of back in Ljubljana, he has always been quite the secretive type.

Damn Dražen and his annoying hobby of moving the cup around. Damn Janez and the way he bursted through the door, with all those papers in his hands.  _To hell_  with all of the windows opened in the living room! Who would’ve thought the cup will break because of the draft…?

But, of course Janez had to hurry that day. After all, he declared his independence just the day after.


End file.
